


What To Expect When You're Expecting

by do_not_confess



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_not_confess/pseuds/do_not_confess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s nothing like those “Hello, Baby!” things on TV or the birth videos Julie made him watch, which is like trying to watch a lot of game film to learn about football– doesn’t even come close to what it feels like to play. Maybe, Matt thinks, maybe nothing can really prepare you for an event like this.  - Matt and Julie embark on the adventure of parenthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What To Expect When You're Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older Matt/Julie fic of mine. It was written before the completion of the series but fits into canon still. It is also the schmoopiest of all schmoop!fests. Honestly. I figured we can all use a little more escapism. For my brain that clearly means daddy!Matt fic and him getting laid ALL WRAPPED UP INTO ONE.

“Dude, you’re so screwed.” Landry says and pops a fry into his smiling mouth.

Matt shakes his head in indignation.

“Seriously, you know you’ll never get laid now, right? And she’ll be cranky all the time and-”

“You’re retarded,” Matt says but smiles in that way like he can’t help it. 

“Alright, alright.” Landry says, mock serious, and bites into his burger. “Well congrats, man. You’re obviously not as clueless as I thought you were, though I don’t know how you’re ever gonna break it to Coach that his little girl –”

He sees the expression on Matt’s face and stops short, throws up his hands.

“Alright, alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

\--

When Julie told him she was pregnant, it was nothing like Matt had imagined it would go down…like, _ever_.

This is how it goes down:

He’s in the middle of coaching Pee Wee, a wild horde of 6 year olds running round him - it’s like as soon as they get in gear, they turn into tiny monsters with really quick feet, he swears it - when she marches up determinedly, like going into war, her blonde hair flowing around her face like a flag. 

He’s all distracted, trying to get his players in line, and starts to offhandedly say: “Hey babe, you home for dinner-” when she grabs him by the ears sticking out from under his cap and kisses him, on the mouth, in front of all the kids and a good number of their parents. 

He’s a little stunned but before he can react she’s already pulling back, her eyes twinkling and her mouth a line of determination. 

“I’m pregnant, Matthew Saracen,” she announces in a chipper tone over his bewildered finish of: “-tonight?” And she smiles into his stunned face. 

“What?” He asks, lamely, taking her hand and pulling her to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small boy kick the player standing next to him. “CUT IT OUT, ZACHARY!” Matt yells in his best stern-coach-voice and turns to Julie, whose smile is even wider by now.

“See you at home, Daddy,” she sing-songs, pecks him on the cheek, turns around and walks off the field. 

“See you!” he calls after her, dumbfounded. She blows him a kiss over her shoulder. 

Practice is a mess that day.

\--

When Julie tells him she wants a natural birth, Matt’s not really convinced. Like why would she wanna go through all of that without pain meds when she doesn’t have to? 

The thought makes him a little queasy, having to watch her hurting when he can do nothing to help her. But she’s her usual adamant Julie-self about it, keeps ranting about the side effect of epidurals and induction and caesarean rates and he lets it go. After six years of marriage, he knows better than to argue with Taylor women - they’re stubborn as mules. 

Plus, she’s the one who read all the books. 

She takes him to see the midwife at her second appointment. Her name’s Helen and she’s one of those tiny but highly intimidating women - like she just stares him down when he shakes her hand and asks: “Uh, um- how’s- how’s it goin’, ma’am?” 

She tells him about how a lot of fathers faint in the delivery room – and how, apparently, those big, tough football players are the worst offenders. 

“You’re not gonna faint, are you?” She asks and squints at him. So he’s a bit afraid of her, but her and Julie get along really well and as long she’s happy, he is too.

Julie’s a little different now, not really moody or cranky, more as if she’s just closer to the surface of things; bubbling over from time to time, like a can of soda. More anger and more tears and a lot more happiness. She glows like a ripe peach, too. He thinks about what Landry said and smiles and tries to take it like a man. 

\--

He loves the way Julie changes almost daily – even her face, cheeks a little rounder, more heart-shaped. Sometimes he sees her just standing around with her hand on her stomach and staring into thin air as if she’s somehow listening to her inside.

The first time she felt the baby kick he was out in the yard, trying to clean the rain gutters and nearly fell of the ladder when she yelled for him. He came running inside, thinking something was seriously wrong, only to find her in the middle of the kitchen, face dreamy. 

“Feel!” She’d exclaimed. He took off his gloves and she’d pressed his hand against her bulge. 

“It’s kicking,” Julie had said and then there it was, the slightest of thuds against his hand, more like a flutter. They’d both stood there grinning like idiots. 

\-- 

He’s a little surprised how much he loves the weight of her breast and belly against his when they have sex. She’s gotten over wanting to turn the light off, thank god, because he quite likes staring at her sprawled out on top the covers - it’s too hot underneath the sheets she says - skin rosy against his. It seems that with the return of her appetite for food after those first weeks of morning sickness (a highly misleading term, Matt thinks, when it’s something that goes on for days), another appetite has returned as well. 

Landry laughs at him and calls him whipped when Matt tells him of late night runs to the Alamo Freeze to get Julie her favorite ice cream, but Matt just smiles and says nothing. Because really, Landry has no idea about the upsides of being with a pregnant woman. 

When Julie’s 30 weeks along, they visit Helen at the clinic again and she talks to them about the birth process and breathing techniques and stuff, weighing and eating and to be quite honest, Matt zones out a little when it’s all about how often Julie has to go pee. But then Helen pulls out a Doppler and puts it on Julie’s heaving belly – kid’s a dancer she always says, which makes Matt smile more than Julie - and they’re able to hear the heartbeat _thumpthumpthumpthump_ , like a tiny bird’s. Feels like a little wonder – the sudden realization that somehow, him and Julie _made_ this. 

It’s right in the middle of this, him being all awestruck, that Helen suddenly encourages them to have like, lots of sex. In fact, that’s exactly what she says. 

“I strongly encourage you two have intercourse as often as possible.” 

Matt’s all _huh?_ and goes red when he hears her talking about penetration and hormones and how sex in pregnancy is a beautiful thing, nothing to be ashamed of. But she just keeps going, about nipple stimulation and the positive side effects of semen on the ripening cervix “to help things along” while Matt sits there, sweating his mortification against the back of his molded plastic chair. He tries to look casual, wondering if Julie said anything to the midwife, if she somehow can _tell_ what they’ve been up to - he’s sure his eyebrows must be sky high by now. Julie however just smiles very smugly and listens and rubs his hand. 

By the time they leave the clinic, he’s completely weirded out but Julie laughs at him, bunches up her sun burnt nose and announces she’s in the mood for a burger. 

“A big one,” she says.

\--

“Matt.” Julie whispers in the dark, pulling him out of drowsy sleep. He has to fight a little to shake himself out of the haze that clings to him like molasses.

“What?” He breathes, pulling her closer underneath the covers towards his chest, burying his nose in her neck. Her body is still sleep-warm and his hand automatically finds her breast, full and round in his palm. She sighs and he feels her body tighten. 

“Is it - is it time?” he asks, suddenly alert, half-panicked. 

“No.” Her voice sounds between a breath and a sigh. “It’s just – Matt…” She says his name all weird, “- _please_.” 

And then he realizes that her nipple is hard underneath his hand, the nub peaking a little tent in her nightgown, rubbing against his warm palm. 

“Oh-” He says and she grips his hand and pulls it down, over her swollen belly down into the valley between her legs, where she’s so wet, so wet, slippery slope. She goes slack with a sigh. 

“ _Here_.”

“Oh-” He says and cradles her soft thighs, her ass grinding back against him. “Again?”

“I’m sorry, it’s – uh, _aaaah_ ,” she hisses when he starts pulling up her sleepshirt to give him better access, skin touching on skin now. “I don’t know why, I just need-” Her breathing comes deeper now, flesh all pliable under his hands. “-like _all the time_ -”

“Shhh,” Matt whispers, already pulling her close and up, dragging down his boxers, trying to get the angle right. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here-” he mumbles, half awake now, awake enough; his dick’s nudging against her cheeks, blindly, until he finds her entrance, slick with her arousal, slides in _so easily_. 

Julie hums in appreciation when he enters her, like a breath of relief. She’s vibrating around him, thrusting back against him and he guides her hips, takes her slowly from behind, does the work, gently, deeply. 

She doesn’t last very long these days and after about a minute he feels her tighten, inner muscles clenching around him. Waves and waves - as if she’s the tide and he’s the steady rock she’s breaking against until she collapses in a heap of sighs and breaths. Until she’s nothing but a tangle of relaxed limbs. 

“Loveyou.” Julie mumbles, turning round - makes it sound more like one word than two. Matt just kisses her on her slack mouth and watches her drift back into sleep. 

He isn’t sure if that’s what Landry meant when he said that pregnant women were high maintenance but really, Matt’s more than willing to cater to Julie’s every need. 

\--

Coach’s somehow found a new respect for him too. 

Not that he didn’t have respect for him before – it’s a little easier to see eye to eye now that Matt is 27 and has a steady job and a ring on his finger that has Coach feeling he might not hurt his daughter. But somehow, getting his daughter pregnant has, after the initial shock, earned Matt a few brownie points with Eric Taylor. 

Like, sometimes they go over to the Taylor’s place for dinner and while Tami and Julie and Gracie are inside and gushing or whatever women do, Matt stands in the yard with Eric, looking after the grill, drinking beer, talking football with vast stretches of silence in between.

One of these times, after Julie’s been really stand off-ish to Matt during the meal, like she’s just really strung out, Coach takes him outside. 

They talk a little about how Eric wants to hang up a tyre in the yard, “for the little 'un”. They haven’t found out the sex yet, but Matt’s sure that doesn’t matter, his father in law is gonna teach that kid to throw a ball one way or the other. 

“Son, gotta take it like a man. It’ll get easier,” Coach says and slaps his shoulder in the way only men do, looks at him with sympathy in his eyes.

Matt just nods and takes the beer he’s offered and they drink it in companionable silence, staring into the Texas sun cutting orange slants across the lawn. He’s not sure if Eric would be quite as sympathetic if he knew how Julie’s bitchy phases are usually dealt with in the Saracen household, but he doesn’t say anything in the spirit of cameraderie.

\--

He wakes up one night, probably a few hours before dawn, Julie twisting restless at his side. It’s like he has a radar now for when she’s not asleep, knows what she needs to relax again and get some rest.

“Matt?” She asks into the darkness of their bedroom, sounding unsure and small and he mumbles a yes, pulling her towards him, kissing her shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?” He breathes into her hair, while she sighs and his hands are wandering down her body, meeting warmth and moisture. “Come ‘ere darlin’ – It’s alright, I’ll take care of it –”

“No,” she says, swatting his hand away. “No, not _that_ \- Matt–” He can hear her breathing now, heavy, hard and suddenly he’s wide awake. “Matt, I think my water broke.”

\--

His daughter is placed into his arms minutes after her birth, all red face and stern scowl. Tiny royalty toes and a lot of screaming. 

She’s perfect. 

He sits on Julie’s bed, staring down at her in wonder – she didn’t yell at him in labor or threaten to take his manhood like Landry had predicted; in fact very few things about this were how he’d thought they would be. It’s nothing like those “Hello, Baby!” things on TV or the birth videos Julie made him watch, which is like trying to watch a lot of game film to learn about football– doesn’t even come close to what it feels like to play.

Maybe, Matt thinks, maybe nothing can really prepare you for an event like this.

Like it was a lot messier and a lot less scary than he’d thought. There wasn’t a lot of Julie lying in bed and being told when to push, but a lot of her on all fours, bearing down and _vocalizing_ as the midwife had called it - but really, she had sounded more like a roaring lioness. 

He’d thought this before but now he’s sure she must be the toughest woman he knows because she was pretty composed until the last stage; those last two hours when she’d said she couldn’t do this anymore and Helen was all: “Well, but you _are_ doing it, honey.” 

Yes, she’d squeezed the hell out of his hand and clung to him over the edge of the birth tub, but really, she’d done the hard work all by herself.

When their daughter had finally entered the world both him and Julie had cried a little, more out of wonder than anything. Even Helen had smiled and patted his arm, with a: “Now, now, come on, Daddy” and told him to cut the cord - which he’d done, feeling that this somehow earned him some respect with her. 

“What do you think?” Julie asks, her voice hoarse. 

She’s lying back now, hair out of her sweaty face and around her like a halo, blissed out. She looks a little like when she’s drunk, red tinged cheeks and lips and glassy eyes.

“I love you.” He says simply and is rewarded by a lazy smile. 

“Is she a Lorraine?” 

“I don’t know,” Matt laughs a little and stares down at the tiny human in his arms. They hadn’t really planned on actually naming her after his grandma, but had thought about short forms like Lori or Laura. Now, as he looks into his daughter’s face, she’s so much her own person, all previous names don’t seem to fit anymore. He looks down at the nametag around her chubby wrist. 

“Well she can’t be 'Baby Girl Saracen' forever.”

Julie chuckles.

“How about Annie?” He suggests and draws the blanket tighter round her tiny body. It’s Julie’s grandmother’s name. His daughter starts to wail again (didn’t need a doctor to tell them she has a healthy set of lungs) and he hands her back to Julie, who pulls down the hospital gown as if she’s done this a thousand times before and starts nursing her, baby gum latching on to soft flesh with a satisfied _smack_. 

“No,” Julie says with determination. “No cutesy forms. No Annie or Katie or Mandy or something. I think she needs a grown up name.”

“Ok.” Matt says. He doesn’t bother to point out that it would kind of carry on a tradition in the line of Taylor women. Maybe they need to start their own. “Um- Grandma’s second name was Josephine.”

“Josephine-” Julie sing-songs as the baby presses her chubby fists against the soft swell of her breast, sucking vigorously. She has a curious look on her tiny face, forehead wrinkled with concentration. So much strength in her already. “You like that, Josephine?”

“Josephine.” Matt runs a finger down the tiny, puffed red cheek busy with swallowing. “We can call her Jo.”

\--

“That’s her,” Matt says with what he knows is ridiculous enthusiasm. “Josephine Ann Saracen.” He didn’t expect to be such a dork about being a dad, but he doesn’t care, just tips his finger against the glass wall separating him and Landry from a room full of newborns, all lined up neatly. 

“The wailing one?”

“No, the one next to that, see, now she’s gnawing on her fist –” He can’t wipe the smile of his face. 

“Wow, she’s really into that isn’t she?” Landry watches the tiny baby. “She’s cute, man.” 

“Yeah, she’s all Julie with her button nose. She’s got my ears though.”

“Poor thing,” Landry quips and they both laugh.

\--

Matt’s home alone one night with Jo, while Julie’s at a booster ladies meeting. The irony of that isn’t lost on him, but he’s also got a screaming baby on his hands who isn’t too fond of the bottle he tries to feed her. Not funny.

“Heyyy,” he coos, looking into his daughter’s scrunched up face, a red blob of protest in the crook of his arm. “I know we kinda need Mommy for that but she’s out tonight, so why don’t you give this a try-” 

Matt tries to pop the sucker of the bottle into Jo’s open mouth but all that seems to get him is that her wailing turns into full blown, angry shrieks. After about half an hour of it he’s this close to just calling Julie and asking her to come home but he told her he’d manage this, so really, he can’t. 

Eventually he sings to her - that was always his last resort with Grandma. It’s all off key, his voice rumbling around the notes of “Come Josephine” but Jo stops the wailing for a moment, blinking at him. He keeps going, swaying her tiny body to the song in a make believe flying machine, _up she goes_ and she gurgles into his face, which Matt takes as approval. She might be a Saracen woman, after all. 

Finally, twenty minutes later, he gets her to take the bottle. He’s not sure if it’s pure exhaustion on his or her part that convinces her but it does the job nicely. Nothing like a feeding to knock a baby out. They both end up on the rocking chair that used to belong to his grandmother, where he sways her until she’s fallen asleep. 

He’s woken much later by Julie, leaning down to kiss him, blocking out his sight with her lips and her hair and the sweet smell of her conditioner. She smiles down at the passed-out baby on his chest, Jo’s limbs sprawled out in the same position her father likes to sleeps in. Her lips feel soft against his and Matt wants to tell her how much he loves her but is too tired, just leans into her touch. 

“Hey there, Daddy,” she says.


End file.
